


The Face of a King

by eternallydaydreaming



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Sibling Rivalry, how Ardyn got his awesomely huge armiger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 08:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13244127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternallydaydreaming/pseuds/eternallydaydreaming
Summary: After escaping Angelgard, Ardyn visits the tomb of his brother and makes a grim promise.





	The Face of a King

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a meta posted on tumblr in relation to Episode Ignis.

“Find me. Find me.”

His heart beat in rhythm with the plea - the same plea that beckoned him ever since he stepped out of the single-cell prison on Angelgard. At first he did not understand this pull. Even shocked to hold such a strong yearning after years of solitude and silence. The only companions he had to converse with were stray pests and the occasional goblin he manifested (though made possible only after years of cultivating the dark miasma he harvested from the many afflicted he had cured). Ardyn had lost track how many moons passed before the Draconian’s seal broke. All he knew was that each Astral’s power weakened as they systematically fell into slumber after the Great War. Who knew he would have missed the Fulgarian’s judgmental preaching as he routinely demanded atonement before delivering his scorn every time Ardyn refused to confess to any sin. As time passed, day and night grew equally silent, leaving him alone to his own musings.

Ardyn even questioned his sanity when the barrier lifted despite waving his arm through the doorway and feeling the cool sea breeze against his skin. Stepping out, the harsh rays blinded him. Even the glimmering reflection off the ocean nearly concealed the lone fisherman casting out his net. Once he spotted his only way off the tiny island, Ardyn shouted until his voice was hoarse but it did the trick. The man paddled over and offered him a ride all the while asking how he ended up on the deserted island to which he concocted some half-assed story of swimming there after his boat capsized. The explanation satisfied the man though it puzzled the former healer why the man had not considered the possibility that he was transporting a fugitive that was damned by the gods. The answer became clear once he began reading from the mass-produced printed communications – newspapers and books they were now termed. Several centuries had past. The old world had collapsed. Even the Astrals had been relegated to mere fables of Cosmogony.

For several days, Ardyn camped himself inside the library – such institutions were now accessible by all citizens and not just the select few! – and read up on history as the modern people now understood it. Despite the loss of the old simpler times, there had been some consistencies, such as calling upon the Oracles of Tenebrae to cure those infected by the scourge and the Lucis Caelum monarchy ruling the lands. His cheeks burned as he read about the triumphs of great and just rulers along with the trials and tribulations of ones who ruled by oppression and tyranny. Yet each received an elaborate tomb to honor their passing.

Flipping through the pages, his heart thumped anxiously as he pieced together the final resting places of each king, tracing the timeline backwards until his gaze laid upon the entry for the “Founder King” – Ardyn Lucis Caelum. His vein popped out while he clenched his teeth to prevent the obscenities that threatened to roll off his tongue.

_For one who demonized me for serving as the vessel for the scourge, you not only stole the crown but my name as well. Did it really pain you so that you would never know the love that the people bestowed upon me? Could you truly not have ruled on your own accord?_

While it took some time to piece together the exact location of the tomb, Ardyn finally found himself standing before the great stone entrance. His eyes scanned over the magical seals engraved to ward off intruders, namely the daemons that loathed all of humanity. Ardyn scoffed as he found lock of whatever key should fit into it. Instead he held his hand over it as he released the miasma through the opening. Low grumbles erupted as the shadowy mist condensed into a solid form on the other side. Once the giant pushed the doors open, the daemon waited as Ardyn stepped into the first king’s final resting place. He approached the granite sarcophagus and peered into the familiar face though he was not certain whether he was staring at his brother’s countenance or his own. Tracing his eyes down the statue, his eyebrows knitted tightly together as he spotted the sword held securely in the stone hands. He clenched his fists tightly as his scowl deepened in recognition. 

“Touch me,” a spectral voice echoed in his mind.

Reaching his hand out, he lightly brushed his fingers over the cold steel as he reminisced over the countless times he used it to spar against his brother or strike down a daemon in battle. Tears stung his eyes as those days have long passed, but sorrow turned to rage as he realized that along with his name and face his brother too stole his arms. As desire grew in his heart to reclaim what belongs to him, the sword glowed blue. A phantom sword rose up and floated momentarily before piercing into Ardyn’s soul. Placing his hand over his heart he felt some of the empty abyss fill after rejoining with his possession. Wicked contentment glazed over in his eyes as he stared down at the tomb. He then bent close so he was nearly nose to nose with the statue.

“Oh dear brother,” Ardyn hissed, hoping that somehow the man could hear him from the beyond. “You may have stolen my namesake, my birthright, and gods know whatever else, but I be damned if you thought you could keep me sword. However I do plan on returning the favor, brother. I shall take all that your family has held dear - from those who have already passed and those of whom yet to be born. I shall see to the end of your lineage and collect my trophies along the way. I just pray the ‘King of Light’ does not take too long to reveal himself.”

Exiting the tomb, Ardyn ordered the giant to seal the tomb once more and released the daemon to roam the dungeon’s vicinities. After all a true king must endure his trials if he is to prove his worth and wield the mystical armiger that had been chronicled in literature. Stepping out of the dungeon, the first rays of dawn began stretching out across the fields. Soon the sun peeked out over the horizon causing Ardyn to squint. Placing his fedora on his head, Ardyn shielded the sun’s blinding oppression and sauntered down the stone steps while the dungeon’s door concealed itself from the world. 

_Don’t keep me waiting, Bahamut. The longer it takes for you to find your ‘Chosen’ the more time I have to leave my mark on this world._


End file.
